


Oh, That's Just Bucky

by TwistedFate108



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Artist Steve Rogers, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky x Steve - Freeform, Chad is an asshole, Demon Bucky Barnes, Demons, Fainting, Ghosts, Hemophobia, Hemophobic!Steve, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Original Character(s), Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Steve is a smol bean, Stucky - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, and tags, demon!Bucky, emotional breakdown, fear of blood, hints at past abuse, i suck at summaries, sad Steve, scary bucky, steve x bucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9320375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedFate108/pseuds/TwistedFate108
Summary: Steve Rogers is in a shitty relationship with a shitty guy. However, things take a turn for the down right weird when Steve moves into a new apartment that isn’t as empty as he thought. Little does he know that there’s actually a pretty helpful demon living there too. It’s just the way he delivers his messages that bothers Steve.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this post on Tumblr: http://twistedfate108.tumblr.com/post/155846578580/narrativeninja-urbanspellcraft
> 
> "A demon that writes messages on your mirror with blood but they’re useful messages. Like “remember you have yoga at 6 tonight'"

It was just like any other night at Steve Roger’s apartment. He was curled up on one side of the couch while his boyfriend, Chad, was on the complete opposite end texting rapidly on his iPhone. Steve let out a sigh and snuggled deeper into his blanket burrito. Earlier he was so excited to show his boyfriend his favorite series, Supernatural. However, as soon as the pilot episode started Chad had brushed it off and immediately whipped out his phone and zoned out. He was also going to tell him some exciting news, but that feeling had deflated like a balloon. The smaller blonde had kept glancing at the man still absorbed on his phone. Finally, Chad quickly gave him a sharp look and said, “What!?”

“I was going to tell you something, but you were busy.” Steve flinched. He tried to make himself smaller into the couch even though Chad was well muscled and could easily overpower him. God knows he’s done it before.

“God, just spit it out already then.” he snapped finally setting the phone down in his lap.

“I-I found a new apartment. Brooklyn, two bedrooms one bath. Thought you should know, and I could use some help moving in.” Steve said nervously fiddling his fingers under the covers. Chad just scoffed and rolled his eyes before going back to his social media or texting or whatever the hell he did on that thing.

“Can’t, got a lunch get together with the guys from the team.” he said. Steve didn’t question it, even though he never told him when he was moving in or the fact that it took more than one afternoon to get everything inside.

“Oh.” was all he said. They sat in silence once more until Chad deemed it appropriate to leave with a bored “bye” thrown carelessly in Steve’s direction.

* * *

 “Where the fuck did you pick him up at again? Cuz I’m pretty sure it was the deepest pits of hell.” Natasha said throwing the last box into Steve’s new bedroom with a huff.

“At some party in college, so yeah, I guess it was hell.” Steve chuckled. He had skimmed over the basics in a text to his best friend and asked her to help him move in the week after. It wasn’t until today that she got the full story between wheezes and gasps going up and down the stairs with boxes of Steve’s things. The apartment building was old and wasn’t the best, but Steve was ecstatic to find one with an extra room that let in so much light. He looked forward to drawing in the closest thing he had to a studio.

“You should really just kick his ass to the curb, Steve. Or else I might do it for you.” she said clapping a hand on his shoulder. He smiled and shook his head.

“Nat, look at me. Do I really look like a guy that would have men and women throwing themselves at my feet? No, so Chad is really the best thing I’ve got going for me right now.” he tried not to cringe at his own words. He was barely a hundred pounds and had too many health problems to count on two hands. He was a small, weak artist with the body of a 95 year old. Not to mention having a phobia that was stupid as hell and prevented him from going into the medical field like his mom, Sarah. There was no way in hell anybody would be interested in him.

“I hope you know just how stupid that shit sounds. You _know_ you deserve better. Hell, you have a degree from NYU and your art is the best I’ve ever seen. You have so much talent and so much to give and you’re letting that asshole drag you down.” she said pulling him into a tight hug. It was rare for Natasha to get this emotional, and Steve had to swallow hard and take a deep breath to keep his tears at bay.

“I’m going to go and get us some sandwiches from the shop down the street. Any preferences, Stevie?” she asked stepping away and smiling down at him. It was easier to just change the subject when they got that serious. Steve smiled gratefully and ran a hand through his mop of blond hair.

“Roast beef on rye with some BBQ chips, please.” he said. She nodded and headed for the front door.

“Be right back, Stevie. Don’t break anything while I’m gone!” Nat said before slamming the door. And just like that, the apartment was quiet and eerie. Steve decided to wander around the space and check it out again. He’d rushed through with the realtor and accepted it in a hurry since he had to meet his client for a commission work he’d done for them. The deal breaker was of course the studio he was going to get. So this was kinda his first time _really_ looking at the place.

The living room was connected to the kitchen, and the bathroom and two bedrooms were down a short hallway from the kitchen. The living room had a surprisingly huge window that looked out onto the street. Steve wandered back into the bedroom that would be his once he unpacked. The only thing in there at the moment was a mattress and a lamp stacked on some of his favorite novels. It would take a bit for him and Natasha to get his dressers and such inside since he couldn’t afford to pay movers to do it.  

He checked out the small bathroom across from his bedroom next. It held the basics and that was about it. Toilet, single sink with a medicine cabinet and mirror, and a bathtub and shower. It was tinged with yellow, but he expected that due to the age of the place. Steve made his way over into the second bedroom and smiled at the surprisingly spacious room with a huge window that also looked onto the street. This was the perfect room for a studio. He would have to go out and get some bigger canvases now that he had room for them.

Once he was done checking out all the rooms Steve began ripping open boxes. He wanted to get a head start and get as much done as he could to get the place feeling like home. It was drafty as hell in there and still had the unsettling feel to it. Steve quickly began setting up all the knick knacks and photo frames on the built in shelves on the walls that he assumed were left by previous tenants. Without realizing it, he began humming an old tune. One he had heard playing endlessly on his grandma’s record player.

The unsettling feeling gradually became stronger as he worked. Steve tried to shake it off and concentrate even harder on what he was doing, but the feeling was suffocating. Suddenly, as he was placing a small vase on the shelf, he saw a reflection move in the glass of one of the photo frames. He whipped around then, his heart beating wildly as he held the vase to his chest. The thing that was standing, no _floating_ , across the room from him was just pure black smoke. It was in the shape of a man, but it had no features. _Shadow figure_ his brain whispered to him from distant memories of ghost shows.

By then his heart had completely stopped and there was no breath in his lungs. The uneasy feeling was now terror and it was choking him. At the same time the ceramic slid from his fingers and smashed onto the floor, Natasha walked in and with the sweep of the door the black mass and feeling dissipated in front of his eyes. He blinked once, twice, three times and finally inhaled a ragged breath. The thing was gone, and all that stood there was a confused looking Nat with a bag of food in the doorway.

“What the hell did I say about breaking things, Rogers?”


	2. Chapter 2

Time moved very slowly in the following minutes. Natasha dropped the bag and moved in slow motion, her red hair bouncing with each step. Steve slid down the wall and retrieved his inhaler from his pocket with shaky hands. Gripping it tightly he took two puffs and gasped when his breath came back to him. Nat was crouching in front of him with worried eyes, all traces of humor gone. Steve kept his eyes trained on the random spots of water damage on the ceiling just trying to ground himself to the here and now. Knowing her friend well enough Natasha just calmly rubbed his skinny arms soothingly and waited for him to calm down and come back. Finally, the blond let out a shaky breath and slowly looked at her.

“I can’t stay here, Nat.” he choked out.

“What the hell just happened, Steve?” she asked shaking him a little. With a shudder, he quickly explained everything he had seen right before she walked in. After he was done she gave him a sad look and sat back on her heels.

“You know you can’t move, Stevie. You put everything you had into this place! Maybe your sugar just got too low and you started seeing things. Let’s eat something and see if you feel better.” she dragged him up and pushed him towards the kitchen island. Steve leaned up against the island and closed his eyes with another deep breath. She was right and he fucking hated it. There was no way in hell he could move now, not with the amount of money he put into this apartment. There was always the option of moving in with Chad until he could scrape up enough money to find another shithole place, but he didn’t want to be a burden to his boyfriend and Chad would probably make up some excuse anyway. He pushed that thought to the side and bit into his sub. Maybe his sugar was too low and he was just hallucinating things.

After they finished their food Steve and Natasha began unpacking what little Steve had in terms of belongings. The playful banter was easy and friendly between the two, and they managed to get most of the unpacking done in a timely manner. Only a few boxes were left by the time Nat had to head home. She smiled and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she left, taking all the warmth with her. The apartment turned cold as soon as she closed the door. Steve rubbed his bony arms and meandered over to the thermostat to make sure Nat wasn’t fucking with him. It was set at exactly 72 degrees, and the room temperature was 70. 70 degrees my ass. More like negative 2. He grumbled making his way down the hall and to the bathroom.

A couple days passed without incident. Steve put the finishing touches to make the place more habitable and started to finally settle in a little bit. It was nice having his cable and internet back, and he could finally have a proper dresser and bed frame back in his room. With that, he thought it acceptable for Chad to come over and see the finished product. Steve was proud of what he’d done to the place, and he was ecstatic to properly test out his new studio with all the huge canvases he had bought for it. That’s why he was suddenly crestfallen when his boyfriend had marched in and sniffed in disdain at his hard work and pride. Chad didn’t have to say a word for Steve to know exactly how he felt about his apartment. Steve thought it was vintage, Chad thought it was a complete dump. After seeing his face when he first walked in, the smaller man didn’t even bother showing him around the rest of the apartment. He pushed him towards the couch and plopped down in his spot, on the complete opposite side. Chad didn’t even question it, he just pulled out his phone and they fell into heavy silence.

S-So how have you been? Haven’t t-talked to you since I told you about this place.” Steve stammered. The air was slowly getting heavier, and it worried him. Chad didn’t seem to notice and just shrugged. Steve scrambled for the remote and turned the TV on to help stifle the silence.

“Anything you want to watch? It doesn’t matter to me…” he asked in a hurry glancing back and forth from the TV to his boyfriend.

“No.”

“O-Okay,” Steve said. He eventually settled on a documentary about WWII. The usually chilly air got colder and made him shiver. He pulled down the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it tightly around himself. Just another night for Steve Rogers. Same shit, different place. However, the blond started to notice the usually stoic Chad kept smiling down at his phone and was that a fucking blush? Steve’s mouth went dry as a desert and he immediately looked down. What the actual fuck???

Suddenly, the other man shoved the device into his pocket and stood up.

“Hey, I gotta meet one of the guys down the street. He says it’s important.”

More important than me, apparently. Steve thought bitterly.

“I’ll catch you later.” And with that, he was out the door with a tiny, stunned blond left on the couch. Steve was so stunned in fact that he didn’t realize he was crying until a solid minute or two went by.

He angrily swiped at his damp face and flung the blanket to the side as he stormed out of the living room and into the tiny bathroom down the hall. He wrenched the hot water knob over as far as it could go and ripped his clothes off before stepping into the stream of water. It was barely tolerable, but the sting of the water helped. Steve clenched his jaw hard and squeezed his eyes shut,  trying to hold it in as long as he could. A few seconds later he finally let a sob rip loose and salty tracks seared down his cheeks again. The stress and anger of the past few weeks had finally caught up with him and his body wasn’t about to give up until he was completely spent of all the emotions he had bottled up. Steve slid down and sat with his forehead on his knees and his arms wrapped around his legs in a tight ball. He let the hot water rush over him and shook.

The hot water eventually ran out and so did the sobs. Steve carefully unfolded himself and turned off the water. He grabbed the large towel off the closed toilet lid and gingerly wrapped it around his thin body. His whole body was numb and his brain was on autopilot as he stepped over to the sink. Steve slowly raised his eyes to look at his reflection in the mirror when he saw it.

“You need to leave him, Steve.” was scrawled on the mirror in bright red blood. There was so much that the words themselves looked like they were bleeding, the substance starting to streak down from the letters.

He met his own eyes in the mirror as he watched his face instantly pale and his vision start to blur. His ears were ringing and he was chilling all over as he gripped the sink with white knuckles. His mouth was dry and he swayed on his feet as his stomach churned and his knees buckled.

Suddenly, he saw a dark mass shift in the corner of the mirror. His already compromised breathing became worse and he knew this wasn’t going to end well. The tiny blond slowly turned around on shaky legs and immediately paled even more (if that was possible) with the sight before him.

In the far corner of his bathroom stood not a shadow figure, but a very scary and very mad looking man. He had long, dark hair that brushed his naked shoulders and eyes as black as ink. In fact, the only thing covering his sculpted thighs were a pair of black pants. His bare feet were planted shoulder width apart and his bulging arms were crossed tightly over his massive chest, and when he opened his mouth to speak his teeth were sharp.

“He’s a douchebag. You deserve better.”

“Oh no.” Steve thought as his vision went completely white.

He hit the floor.

* * *

When Steve woke up he was on the bathroom floor, alone. He risked a quick glance around his surroundings just to make sure, and when he saw nothing he let out the breath he’d been holding. The blond carefully sat up and grabbed his pounding head and groaned. What the hell just happened?

He wrapped his thin fingers around the rim of the sink and slowly pulled himself up to cautiously look at the mirror. All he saw was his wide blue eyes and pale complexion staring back, no bloody writing and no scary looking ghost. Steve let out another relieved sigh and straightened up completely, leaning on the sink for support. He knew he saw something, but he just didn’t know what it was exactly, or if it was even real for Christ’s sake. Maybe his sugar was too low again. Steve laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation and shook his head at his own reflection. Even he knew that was complete and utter bullshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so short. I'm trying to make my chapters longer, but it's a hard habit to break! I'm already working on the next chapter so don't hate me too much, okay? 
> 
> Oh, and I decided to make Steve hemophobic because I have it and I thought it would add a cool twist to the original prompt (: And I promise there will be more Bucky soon. I'm trying to make this one longer since there are so many possibilities! Thanks for reading and I hope you give me some feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

The next day Steve was pacing around his apartment waiting on Natasha to show up. After the incident, hallucination, whatever, last night the blond had been on edge and refused to stay still for very long. His golden locks were standing in all directions from his fingers constantly tugging and running through them. When the redhead showed up her smile faltered at the sight of him and slumped her shoulders.

“What the hell, Steve? Did you even sleep last night?” she clucked her tongue and dragged him over to sit on the couch. The truth was, he hadn’t. Not even a wink. He was so paranoid that thing would come back and do God knows what. He knew he looked rough, she didn’t have to point it out. Steve rubbed at the dark circles around his puffy eyes and sighed.

“No, this place is just so new and I’m not used to it. I should be fine in a couple more days. Don’t worry about it, Nat. You came to leech off my Netflix, so let’s get to it, yeah?” he didn’t wait for her answer and immediately went for the remote and turned on the TV. She narrowed her eyes at him but decided to brush it off for now. He was immensely grateful for that. There was no way in hell he was going to mention what happened the night before to her. She would surely haul his skinny ass off to the nut house.

It was a little after dinner time when Natasha peeled herself off Steve’s couch and declared it time for her to go home. Steve groaned and whined as she shrugged her coat on, but walked her to the door anyways. It was so nice to have someone to hang out with that was fun and actually acknowledged his presence.

“Oh, hush! I’ll see you Saturday at 3 o’clock. You have a doctor’s appointment, remember?” she said poking his nose. Steve blinked owlishly before frowning. He had actually forgotten all about it, honestly. It was concerning how forgetful Steve was. Thankfully, Natasha always went with him to all of his appointments for moral support. Otherwise, he would probably keel over and die because he kept forgetting to go to the doctor. Suddenly, the blond split into a huge grin and pulled the redhead into a tight hug.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nat.” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“Keel over and die?” she laughed patting his back.

“Probably.” he muttered.

* * *

 The next day was Friday, and Steve was glad it went by relatively fast. He hadn’t heard from Chad or his ghostly visitor since the other night, and he hated being by himself in the apartment. He couldn’t wait for Natasha to take him to the doctor so he could get out of there for a couple of hours with friendly company.

Steve had just finished cleaning up after dinner and switched off the TV before making his way down the hallway to take a hot shower. Thankfully, nothing scary had popped up in his mirror after that night, so he made his way into the bathroom and undressed without a second thought. Steve let out a pleased sigh as he stepped into the spray and the deliciously hot water rushed over his pale skin.

Stepping out he wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed another one to rub through his dirty blond hair. He stepped over to the sink before dropping the towel from his hair and into the sink. When he looked up his breath caught in his throat and his stomach dropped to his toes. Dark, flaming eyes met his cool blue ones in the mirror. Steve whipped around and grasped the sink with white knuckles staring wide-eyed at the man in the corner of his bathroom.

“Oh, no. Not again!” he groaned internally as his knees began to wobble dangerously below him. At least this time there wasn’t any blood dripping down his mirror, and the man didn’t look pissed as hell like he had the other night.

The man in question actually looked pretty calm for a guy that scared the absolute shit out of Steve. His eyes still resembled the fiery pits of hell, and he seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face, but his arms were relaxed at his sides and he watched the small blond with a cautious curiosity. He still wore the tight black pants and nothing else, and frankly, it was kinda distracting. Steve was instantly snapped out of his thoughts about the man’s scarce wardrobe when he took a step out of the corner. The blond gasped and tried to recoil further into the sink, but the porcelain was unforgiving. He trembled as the much larger man made his way over to him, moving like a panther stalking prey. Steve thought his lungs were going to finally give up on him for good when the man’s chest was at eye level and only centimeters away from touching.

Suddenly, long clawed fingers wrapped deftly around his skinny wrist in a tight grip. The touch seared through his skin and up his arm all the way to his shoulder, burning white hot. Steve cried out and tried to yank his hand away, feebly. His gaze landed on his forearm to see angry, red welts rising on his white skin. Steve could smell his flesh burning and he tried not to gag as curls of smoke rose on his flesh, leaving the edges glowing with fire. At first, he thought it was some foreign language that he didn’t know, but once the words were done searing into his skin he realized he could read it.

“Remember, you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow at 3 o’clock.” The words were practically carved into his skin, and they were starting to leak thin rivulets of blood. Steve’s hand began to shake as the substance dripped down his wrist on off the tips of his fingers. The strangest thing was, he couldn’t even feel the pain, or at least not yet.

“Well, shit.” he said breathily looking down at his arm in shock, swaying on his feet.

He hit the floor. Again.

* * *

The dark haired man cocked his head to the side and stared down in confusion at the smaller man sprawled out on the floor. The demon may not be well versed in human behaviors, but he was pretty sure that was not supposed to happen. This was the second time that the thin and sickly looking human had toppled over into the floor in his presence, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the continuous occurrence.

He crouched down, mindful of his clawed fingers, to check the pulse on the blond’s bony wrist. Well, he was obviously alive, but that didn’t explain why the man had dropped to the floor. Was it fear? He hoped not, he was slowly coming around to the other man. At first, he was furious someone had moved into his territory. However, the anger had turned into curiosity in just a span of days. He had never been intrigued by humans, and this slightly bothered him. Suddenly, as if his touch had roused him, the smaller man began to stir.

* * *

Steve let out a low groan and grabbed his head. This fainting thing better not become a regular thing. One day he’s going to hit his head just a little too hard, and he doesn’t really want to die in his bathroom, naked.

He tried to use his left hand to begin pushing himself off of the floor but tensed when he noticed the resistance. He snapped his head up and was immediately met with pure black staring right back into his blue hues. The scream barely left his lips before another hand clapped over his mouth.

“Shut up.” the other man hissed. Steve’s eyes widened at the claws brushing his cheek and the man baring fanged teeth in his direction. He tried to scream again behind the hand over his mouth and back away, but the dark haired man was straddling him in an instant, shaking him.

“Hey! Would you calm the fuck down for five damn minutes, kid?” he said. Steve was rigid with fear and just kept his eyes on the claws still around his left wrist. The man must have noticed this because he glanced back and forth between Steve and his own abnormalities.

“You’re scared of me,” he said lowly. The blond nodded minutely and trembled. The man sighed and looked away.

“If I look less scary will you calm down and talk to me?” Steve nodded again and swallowed hard. The brunette met his gaze again, and Steve watched in awe as the black that covered his entire eye slid away to reveal strikingly blue irises. His gaze was suddenly ripped away to look at his wrist and the black claws around it retracting into normal looking fingertips. He was vaguely aware of the scratching on his cheek disappearing too.

“Better?” he asked, ducking his head. Steve could see that his teeth were no longer pointed. He slowly nodded and the hand over his lips slid down.

“What the hell are you?” the blond demanded as soon as he was free to speak again. The larger man just chuckled and shook his head.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do ya?” he dropped his wrist and climbed off the other man to lean up against the bathtub. Steve sat up and crossed his arms over his chest, just glaring.

“Pretty sure humans call us demons.” the blond just stared. There was no fucking way! Demons were just something off Supernatural. There was no way they were real. Was Steve hallucinating again? If this was a hallucination then it was pretty damn vivid. But then again, the shit that’s been happening would make a lot more sense if this man really was a demon...

“What’s your name then, demon?” Steve asked. He could play along with this game. The brunette was temporarily at a loss for words at that one. He got a far off look in his eyes and it took him longer than usual to answer.

“I’m not sure. I’ve been alone for a very long time.” he finally admitted. Steve cocked his head at that.

“Well, you were human at one point. Do you remember any of that?” Steve was grappling with the shit he’d seen on Supernatural and what little he knew of demons in general. There had to be a sliver of truth somewhere in there. The man furrowed his eyebrows and looked away, pursing his lips.

He had been human at one point, but the memories were skewed. The only thing he had ever been able to come up with name wise was a fragment of a name. He knew there was some deeper meaning to it, but he couldn’t figure out why the snippet was so significant.

“Buchanan, I think that’s what I was called.” he let out a sigh of relief. He had never told anyone his name. If that even was his name. Nevertheless, it was like a weight had been pulled off his chest.

“Buchanan? That’s kinda a mouth full.” Steve said furrowing his brows. The man was obviously deep in thought so he left him to work through what he was going to say next. Finally, with a snap of his fingers, Steve leaned forward with bright eyes.

“Bucky!” he said excitedly.

“Bucky?” he raised an eyebrow at the man in front of him.

“I’m calling you Bucky.” Steve said.

“Bucky.” he rolled the name around in his mouth a moment before smiling. It wasn’t too bad he guessed.

“I like it.” he informs the blond with a slow smirk.

“G-Good.” the tiny blond ducks his head in embarrassment. Bucky couldn’t help but notice how adorable this man was.

“So, Steve, why are you always fainting on me, huh?” he grinned. Steve’s head whipped up at that.

“How do you know my name?” he said; shocked. Bucky just threw his head back and laughed.

“I live here too, remember? Kinda hard not to know your name, roomie.”

“Yeah, about that… Can you possibly go haunt another apartment?” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“Not that I don’t like you or anything! You seem like a really great guy, demon, thing? But it’s just kinda inconvenient having you scare the ever loving shit out of me all the time.” Steve said quickly. Bucky sighed and let his head hit the bathtub with a thunk.

“I would if I could, believe me, I’ve tried. But for some reason, I’m tied to this apartment, and I can’t leave. My memories are so fuzzy I haven’t been able to figure out why I’m here.” he said quietly. Steve’s heart sunk at not only the words but the demon himself. He didn’t look so scary now that he had more human-like features, and the whole time they’d been sitting talking Bucky hadn’t hurt him or threatened him in any way. Steve just honestly felt really bad for the guy.

“I guess it’s okay with me then if you stay…” Steve mumbled rubbing his arm. Bucky perked up at that, but his eyes were wary.

“Really?” he asked tentatively. It was kinda cute, Steve realized. This huge, scary demon was sitting here nervously asking if tiny Steve would be okay with their predicament. Steve laughed and smirked at the hulking man sitting in front of him.

“Yeah, but on one condition. Can you please stop writing things on my mirror with blood? It kinda really fucking bothers me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I caught something that could only be compared to the plague. It was awful and I don't wish that sickness upon my worst enemy. Anyways, I hope this chapter makes sense. Some of it was written while I was hopped up on cold meds D;
> 
> Also, I'm not entirely happy with the way Bucky's character is developing. I feel like he's kinda all over the place, but I'll chalk that up to a demon with scrambled memories lol As always please give me some feedback! I always love hearing from you guys. It makes me feel like this story isn't completely selfish and pointless!


	4. Chapter 4

“Hemophobia?” Bucky repeated tentatively.

“Yes! It means I’m extremely afraid of blood. It’s my phobia, that’s why I always fainted when you used blood to communicate with me,” Steve said leaning forward excitedly. It was such a relief to finally be able to connect with someone besides Natasha and Steve’s doctor. No one understood or tried to just ignore it. Steve was pretty sure that Chad didn’t even know, even though he’d told him multiple times when the other man would want to watch a slasher flick.

“So what do I do with these?” he asked curiously holding up the stack of colorful sticky notes in his clawed hand. Steve had encouraged him to slip back into his natural form since it was more comfortable and he insisted he wasn’t scared of the demon anymore.

“Why, I’m glad you asked!” he chuckled holding up a box of glitter gel pens, stickers, and various other types of fun stationary.

 

* * *

 

The next two weeks was filled with colorful notes with small reminders written on them and the occasional drawing of a hellhound in red glitter pen. At first, they were just reminders written and stuck on the mirror, but they gradually began to take over the apartment. Steve would brush his teeth and smile at the drawing of the horrendous creature on the pink sticky note stuck to his bathroom mirror. But then one would be on his lampshade in his bedroom, “The plumber is coming tomorrow to fix the kitchen sink. Wear actual clothes, please” followed by a smiley face.

Steve laid in bed and stared at the water stains on the ceiling and sighed. “Why don’t you ever come out? The reminders are helpful, but if I’m going to have a roommate it’d be nice to actually talk to you face to face every now and then,”

“All you had to do was ask,” a gruff voice suddenly came from Steve’s left on the bed and he almost screamed before he saw it was just Bucky lounging on his side in his usual getup with a crooked smile.

“Give me an asthma attack while you’re at it! Jesus, do you even own any other clothes? You look like you’re about to go to a rock concert or a BDSM party.” Steve grumbled grabbing the pen and pad on his nightstand usually meant for Bucky’s use.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” the demon frowned and looked down at his body. Steve blushed and quickly looked away to write “pajamas” in a list for things to get him when he went shopping next.

“Normal people don’t wear tight ass leather pants and that only all the time. I need to get you some clothes, and don’t worry, I’m already writing myself a reminder,” he smiled flashing the demon his growing list of necessities.

“But I’m a demon and this is what I’ve always worn,” Bucky pouted and rolled over on his stomach to give the other man a pitiful look.

“Well, I plan on introducing you to my friend, Natasha, so you can’t be wearing that when you meet her. She might just steal you away from me,” Steve said scribbling harder on the notepad. Suddenly, warm fingers clutched his chin and wrenched his head to the side, almost painfully. His wide eyes met fiery black ones and he had to suck in a sharp breath.

“Believe me, _no one_ is stealing me away from you,” Steve almost died and went to heaven (or hell) right then and there. If he’d been on his feet he would have definitely fallen. With a graceful roll Bucky lifted himself and glided across the room.

“I guess I’ll leave it up to you then. However, if you haven’t guessed, I prefer form fitting and black clothing. Night night, Stevie.” Bucky leaned down like he was going to kiss his forehead, but instead slapped a sticky note there instead before disappearing into thin air. Steve sucked in a breath and flopped back onto the mattress before peeling the paper off his skin and reading it.

“Don’t forget to buy me clothes tomorrow

-Buck”

 

* * *

 

Steve encountered three more notes before he even left the apartment the next day, but no sight of the demon anywhere. He sighed as he passed the second bedroom with an unfinished canvas in it.

_I’ll get to it later._

The half finished family portrait stared at him in judgement, the father seemingly glaring at him. He quickly shut the door and moved to the kitchen to find quite a bit of money and a note.

“Take this and don’t question it. Make sure to eat something with protein in it. I’ll see you later

-Buck”

The blond raised an eyebrow at the cash and the little signature that was starting to show up in the demon’s notes. He was also questioning how he was considering calling Bucky that. He shook his head and grabbed some eggs from the fridge and popped some toast in the toaster. Shortened versions of hard to pronounce demon’s names was one thing, but a pet name of an already shortened name was something else entirely. But Bucky started it, so maybe it was okay? Steve groaned and slammed the fridge and pulled out his phone to text Chad. Maybe he just needed to see his boyfriend.

“Wanna come over 2nite?” he sent the text and shoved his phone back in his pocket and sighed. Chad was probably still in bed from an all nighter with his friends. Steve was slightly startled by his toast popping up and grumbled as he quickly pocketed the cash and swiped his breakfast from the toaster. He was too irritated and confused to fix eggs and headed out the door. He needed some air to clear his head.

 

* * *

 

Steve flopped down on a bench and huffed. So far he had only found a couple of t-shirts and one pair of gothic looking pants at Hot Topic and some pajama pants but that was it. He couldn’t have Bucky walking around in just a pair of pants, but he also wanted to pick things Bucky would actually like to wear. Apparently Hot Topic no longer carried goth stuff anymore and that was his last hope. He doubted the demon would like a My Little Pony dress. Steve’s sugar was getting low and he was getting irritated with all the people so he resigned to go home and just order the rest of Bucky’s clothes online. At least then the demon could pick out exactly what he wanted.

Well, that _was_ the plan, until he got up and promptly passed the fuck out. Again.

 

* * *

 

When he came to he was being surrounded by tons of shoppers and the EMTs loading him onto a stretcher. One of the EMTs noticed him coming to and smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, we found your emergency call list in your phone and your friend Natasha is meeting us at the hospital. You’ll be just fine.” Steve groaned and rolled his head on the stretcher. He would _never_ hear the end of this from Nat and she’d never leave him alone.

_I’m going to have to sell my haunted apartment and all my belongings to pay for this ambulance ride alone._ His eyes shot open and he almost sobbed.

_Bucky. He would have to leave Bucky._ Steve tried to sit up but he was strapped down and they were already pulling away. The nice lady from before put calming, gloved hands on his arms and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Steven? It’s okay, we’re just gonna bring you in to check for a concussion. You fell at a weird angle and hit your head pretty hard.” Steve squinted and could vaguely feel something being pressed to his head but all he could think about was the demon at home who was waiting on him. The one that couldn’t leave the apartment no matter how hard he tried. Everything was a blur as they unloaded him and put him in a bed in the E.R. Steve only caught a blur of red in the whir of sterile white. He knew Natasha was there but he couldn’t focus on one thing. It was like someone had put his head in a blender and left it on. Finally, he snapped out of it when he felt a hard pressure squeezing his upper arm. He glanced over to see Nat sitting beside the bed with tears in her eyes. At that moment, he realized he too had tears streaking down his cheeks.

Without thinking he said, “Where’s Bucky?” Nat just gave him an incredulous look.

“Who?” she said.

“Nobody,” he croaked.

“Do you know how fucking scared I was? An EMT called me saying you were passed out in the middle of the mall bleeding like crazy and they were carting you off to the hospital and to come immediately. I’ve imagined this scenario different ways before and I thought this was it. I don’t show it often, but I am genuinely scared that one day that call will be someone giving me far more fatal news. What happened? Did you let your sugar get too low again?” her hand was back on his arm again, squeezing like a blood pressure cuff.

He looked away and swiped the tears and nodded like a scolded child. Nat just sat back and shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, tissue clutched tight in her hand.

“Thankfully, you didn’t get a concussion and you were cleared to be released once you came to. The doctors think you went through a brief episode of dissociation.”

“I don’t know how the hell I’m going to pay them back, Nat,” he croaked running his fingers through his already mussed hair.

“You don’t have to because I already did. Once you get your shit together I’ll take you home and we’re gonna have ice cream and a full on cry session. I’m not doing it in front of all these people,” in an instant Natasha Romanoff was clear faced and ready with her purse and keys and out the door. Steve was left speechless as the doctor came in and signed his chart with a quick, “Be more careful with in the future, Mr. Rogers,”.

Steve changed slowly and grabbed his shopping bags before trudging out to the waiting room to meet with Natasha. She was already wearing her sunglasses so he couldn’t tell what her eyes were saying, but she was stiff. He gingerly wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his head on her collarbone. Her high heeled boots were actually welcome today. Steve just wanted to be small and comforted.

“I think we overreacted a little bit today…” Steve started as soon as they got in Natasha’s car, but a seething glare sent his way stop him dead in his tracks.

“Don’t you _ever_ tell me how to feel, Steven Grant Rogers. You can’t tell someone how to feel, and how I felt today was _very_ real and I don’t want to hear another peep about it.” Before Steve could say anything else she started the engine and swiftly backed out of the parking spot and sped out of the parking garage.

  
_You can’t tell someone how to feel, huh?_ Steve leaned up against the cool glass and drifted off as the engine hummed underneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize that I started this story almost a year ago and I'm just now updating it wtf? In an effort to get a new chapter out this is a VERY rough draft and I might go back and edit later. I'm sorry guys, college kicked my ass but I kicked it back! 3 Bs and a C+ ayyyeee~ Anyways, just know I love this story and I didn't mean to abandon it. I hope this chapter lives up to what you expected. I definitely have more in store for these guys, so stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what ya'll think! I had so much fun writing this one!


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